


Waking Dreams

by AphroditesTummyRolls



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Finger Sucking, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani is an Incurable Romantic, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Sappy Sex for Sappy Lovers, Sleeping Bag Sex, That's not really important though, handjobs, keep quiet while i jerk you off so we dont wake the others, mid twentieth century, somewhere in the cold soviet union, what's important is that it's COLD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26863594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphroditesTummyRolls/pseuds/AphroditesTummyRolls
Summary: “We’ll have to be very quiet…” he whispered back, and Joe knew he was looking over at the others, sleeping as if there was nothing happening at all.It was nothing that hadn’t happened before. He and Nicky had spent centuries in the same bedroll, rubbing off with their lips sealed together, swallowing each other’s moans... No, this wasn’t serious. It was a game they played— an excuse to raise the stakes, to get something in their mouths to keep their silence, to get off while getting more and more desperate for a real, private moment. A moment to take each other apart.Joe grinned, trailing his nose along Nicky’s jugular and watching the goosebumps rise there in the moats of winter sunlight.“You’ll have to be quiet, baby.” He punctuated the endearment with a stroke of his hot tongue up the line he’d drawn with his cold nose. Nicky barely swallowed his whine, already trembling in his arms. “But how will you know if you’re doing a good job if I don’t tell you? Hm?”
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 31
Kudos: 362





	Waking Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayQueen517](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayQueen517/gifts).



> This is reply to a prompt from my lovely friend, MayQueen517. She asked for lazy morning rubbing off on each other, and for Nicky unable to keep his shit together when Joe tells him what he wants to do with him. So I combined the prompts (but will probably write a separate oneshot for dirty talk exclusively, because I love dirty talk and i love my friends). 
> 
> I wrote porn for my friend :) And I can't do anything without praise kink involved, so that happened. Last time, it was Joe's turn to be lavished with attention and love by his loving lover, but now it's Nicky's turn. At least, it's the precursor to Nicky's turn. Joe wants to lay Nicky out properly, and he tells him all about it. 
> 
> As usual, I need validation to survive, please tell me if you like this <3

At first, they could’ve been anywhere for all Joe knew.

There was nothing in the world but Nicky— his scent, his body, his quiet sleeping breaths. Joe felt himself hover on the edge of sleep and wakefulness, the familiar thrum of pleasure making up the backdrop of his thoughts. 

He nuzzled into his Nico’s neck, pressing sloppy, half asleep kisses to the back of his neck. 

His body was warm and lax with sleep, aroused heat drifting up and around his veins to settle like a swirling fog in the cradle of his hips. Joe could feel the welcome pressure of his love, wrapped up in his arms and their shared bedroll, back to chest. Nicky’s hips were pushed up snugly against the half hard line of his cock, and he pressed impossibly closer, purring in the back of his throat. 

Joe could feel Nicky’s heartbeat, and sighed. He kept his eyes closed— if this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. If this was reality, it deserved to be basked in. 

It was reality, though, and he knew it when a sudden chill ran down his spine. Icy air crept down the opening of their bedroll and sent Joe shivering, shimmying back to block the gap. 

His memories were coming back to him. There had been a mission in Budapest. They helped in any way they could. They ducked into an abandoned apartment block to lay low. 

The mission was a success, and they were all safe. He held Nicky just the littlest bit tighter, feeling his heartbeat against Joe’s, his nose in his hair, his ass against his cock. 

The sun was up just enough to be peeking through those horrible vertical blinds— thin, cold streaks of light making moats in the dark room. Joe squinted up to try to find a way to make it stop, sneaking an arm up and out of the bedroll. The air outside of their blissfully warm cocoon was cool enough to be properly  _ cold,  _ and Joe bit his cheek against a sleepy grumble about these shitty Soviet apartment blocks and their nonexistent heating as he batted clumsily at the offending blinds. 

The sound wasn’t loud, but it still rattled the hush of the room. At first, he cringed, holding his breath as he looked over the other bedrolls for any movement. Booker and Andy had fallen asleep too drunk to wake up from a little noise like that, even if it made Joe flinch. The hard concrete walls sent the sound waves echoing into his head, but by some miracle, nobody else budged at the clatter of plastic in the silent winter morning. 

Well,  _ almost _ no one. 

Joe was already starting to shiver with the winter chill, and ducked his hand back down to wrap around Nicky’s warm chest. He wanted to try to get back to sleep— the dull pulse of heaviness in his hips guided him, snuggling up tighter to his love in front of him. Maybe they could take a break now that this mission was over. It had been months since he got to properly lay Nicky out. What he wouldn’t give for a  _ bed.  _ Maybe they could go somewhere  _ hot,  _ with lots of sun and long days with blazing sunrises and sets. Joe didn’t like the cold, and Nicky— 

Nicky let out a displeased little grunt from the back of his throat, lashes fluttering and brow furrowing as he wriggled closer to Joe’s chest and away from his hand. 

At first, the tired fog of his brain didn’t catch up. Joe felt himself frown while his love shied away from his touch. 

“Nicolo…” he whispered, about to ask about nightmares or something. He didn’t understand until the tip of his nose skated along the shell of Nicky’s ear, and the other man let out a full  _ whine _ that Joe understood. It loosened something in his chest, and warmed something else, deeper inside him. 

The tip of Joe’s nose was like ice from the cold eastern winter. His hand had been out in the chilly air until goosebumps rose along his forearm. 

Joe didn’t  _ like  _ the cold, but for his Nico, the phrase barely even started to cover it. 

When Joe grazed his ear with his nose, he squirmed sleepily, snuggling close to Joe’s warmth, but also trying his damnedest to get away from the shock of sensation. 

“Hmm—  _ cold,  _ Yusuf…” he mumbled, a little of that whine still in his tone, making him sound so  _ sweet.  _

Joe slipped his cold hand down from Nicky’s heart and along his body, skittering down his ribs and sweeping over the slight softness of his belly. At the hem of his shirt, Joe tickled the hairs above his love’s waistband, pressing the flat of his rapidly warming palm to Nicky’s chest. 

He jumped back from the hand, only to press himself hard against the outline of Joe’s hardening cock. It punched a sigh out of him, rumbling against Nicky’s pulse point— he could  _ feel  _ the change in his love as he woke up to realize what was happening. Nicky’s hips ground back experimentally again, back onto Joe and sending a spark of pleasure up his spine. 

He grinned, kissing the back of Nicky’s neck, sure to make him shiver as he buried his nose in the soft hair at his nape. 

There was a sharp huff of breath and his Nico’s own warm,  _ warm  _ hand came to hold Joe’s cool one under his shirt. He rocked back on him again and again, holding him flush to his back— as if Joe would ever want to move. 

_ “Amore mio,”  _ he crooned, voice already rough with sleep going even darker and sweeter, “my angel, d’you not like the cold?” 

He knew, of course. He knew Nicky would pout anytime the faintest chill was in the air, that he had been grumbling about the weather since they set foot out of the plane. He had watched Nicky scowl at the sky for centuries— he pressed his freezing nose behind his love’s ear just to hear him gasp and feel his rolling hips stutter. 

_ “Sí, s-sí, Hayati,  _ I—“ he finally found his words, more breath than sound. Joe took the tip of his nose and replaced it with his soft lips, sucking a red mark into the tender skin. Nicky squirmed. 

“Let me warm you up.” 

“We’ll have to be very quiet…” he whispered back, and Joe knew he was looking over at the others, sleeping as if there was nothing happening at all. 

It was nothing that hadn’t happened before. He and Nicky had spent centuries in the same bedroll, rubbing off with their lips sealed together, swallowing each other’s moans. Andy and Quynh were far worse than them, once upon a time. 

Booker was in an alcohol-induced coma. He’d never once woken up and heard them. 

No, this wasn’t serious. It was a game they played— an excuse to raise the stakes, to get _something_ in their mouths to keep their silence, to get off while getting more and more desperate for a _real,_ private moment. A moment to take each other apart. 

Joe grinned, trailing his nose along Nicky’s jugular and watching the goosebumps rise there in the moats of winter sunlight. 

_ “You’ll  _ have to be quiet, baby.” He punctuated the endearment with a stroke of his hot tongue up the line he’d drawn with his cold nose. Nicky barely swallowed his whine, already trembling in his arms. “But how will you know if you’re doing a good job if I don’t tell you? Hm?” 

And, like flipping a switch, like he knew exactly what Joe would do— and he definitely did— and was  _ asking  _ for it, Nicky let out a gusty sigh. It wasn’t loud, not by any stretch, but it was enough to reverberate against the walls. 

Joe was painfully hard, grinding up and into the crack of Nicky’s ass, cursing the layers of fabric between them. Swallowing and slipping his free arm under his love’s side, he shushed Nicky with cloying sweetness, continuing to lavish attention on the pale column of his throat. The arm he had underneath Nicky slid up his chest and forced them impossibly closer together as he brought his fingertips to his love’s swollen lips, no doubt bitten red. He bit down on Nicky’s shoulder, burying his face there to muffle his own moan as his fingers were enveloped in the velvet heat of the other man’s mouth. His tongue slipped up and down the length of them, a soft purr vibrating through the both of them as he went quiet. 

This man was trying to kill him. All these centuries since the last time they’d killed each other, and Joe was about to be murdered in this bedroll, slain by his love’s circling hips and the soft, steady suction of his mouth around his fingers. It was enough to lay Joe in his grave. 

It was also enough to send him bucking forward, latching his teeth to Nicky’s earlobe and sucking hard. Nicky had let go of the hand he had under his shirt, and Joe scratched his blunt nails over the hair under his navel. It made him whimper around the slick fingers in his mouth, and the noise went straight to Joe’s straining cock. Slipping his hand under the waistband of his love’s threadbare sweatpants, he released Nicky’s earlobe with a wet sound, nuzzling into his soft hair. 

“Baby,  _ Amore, Tesoro mio…”  _ he whispered into his Nico’s skin, “Feeling good?” 

Nicky keened around Joe’s fingers, caught between pushing up and forward, toward the hand pressed to the thatch of curls just above his dripping cock, and pressing back into the hot pressure of Joe at his back. He sucked him sloppily, and when he craned up to look around and down at his love, he nearly came right then. 

His lips were red and swollen, just like Joe had imagined. There were splotches of pink high in his cheeks, and his eyelashes fluttered sleepily. Saliva slipped out between his lips, making them glisten in the early morning light, and he could  _ hear  _ the soft, slick noises of him sucking, focusing so entirely on his task just like Nicky focused on everything in their lives. 

It made Joe’s heart expand and  _ ascend  _ like a hot air balloon, something wild and proud and  _ in love  _ swooping through his chest and rattling against his ribs like a bird in a cage. It concentrated the heat in the veins that he’d woken up with, the mist pooling in his gut, winding it up into a coil ready to spring. His cock was impossibly hard and wet in his pajamas, and every part of him  _ burned for Nicolò.  _

Nicky whined, then, high and begging, bucking up into Joe’s hand where it was still unmoving on his abdomen.

“Shh, shh shh— I’m here,  _ tesoro.  _ You just keep quiet…” The world had slid into a soft lens, focused only on Nicky and Nicky’s pleasure, and Joe finally started to move again.  _ “Bello, _ that’s  _ so good,  _ Nico.” 

The praise made Nicky’s breath hitch, snuggling back into Joe until they were completely flush again. He started a gentle rock, pushing his love’s hips along with him, perfectly in sync. He trailed his nails down the vein on the underside of his cock, making Nicky shiver and suck harder, trying to keep quiet as he was teased. Joe kissed his skin, burying himself back in Nicky’s shoulder. 

“What I would do to you if we had a  _ bed _ right now, my love. Waking up beside you is my greatest treasure— warm sunlight cast over your face, the rays caught in your lashes as you look over at me. I could live in your eyes, Nicolò…” he whispered, mouthing the words into him, pressing kisses and nips there that made him shiver. The cold was forgotten— the room was forgotten, the others were forgotten. 

There was only Nicky now. 

Joe finally wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, and felt the lips around his fingers tremble as if he was about to weep from the pleasure. He jolted up into Joe’s hold at first, only to be tsked and tutted at. He squeezed just this side of too much, forcing him to be still. There was a whimper in the back of his throat, Joe could feel it like it was his own, and he started a slow, steady rhythm with his hips, pushing Nicky back and forth until he matched him. 

_ “Good.  _ Oh, my angel— so,  _ so good.”  _ He breathed over his skin. Nicky worked his tongue over and between his fingers, and Joe barely managed to bite his cheek against the moan bubbling up in him. “I’m gonna take you somewhere warm— somewhere  _ hot.  _ Leave the windows open, keep you naked for days. Long, sun soaked days. I’ll take you apart. When was the last time I did that? Hm? It’s been  _ too long  _ since I opened you up, had you shaking apart on my cock, made you weep into the pillow— I’ll take care of you, my Nicolo. Like you take such good care of me… you’re _ so good, _ Nico. So good to me, so sweet to me…” 

Nicky’s whole body trembled, his hands gripping desperately at Joe’s arms like he could fuse them together, fucking his own mouth with his fingers. The slick slide of them in and out synced up with the rhythm of their hips and his hand around his cock. 

Joe sped up the pace, twisting around the head, teasing the edge of his foreskin with his thumbnail until Nicky was lost. He was unable to move, unable to do anything but  _ take it,  _ trembling and whimpering in his arms. His whole body was electrified as he came, unraveling into Joe’s fist for long, gasping moments. The drawn out, ragged noise from behind Joe’s fingers was definitely louder than it should have been, the slick sound of his hand pumping him through his release practically echoing in the space. 

“My sweet  _ love, oh Nicolo.  _ Nico, I  _ worship  _ you— let me worship you—“ he babbled, grinding hard and desperate against the other man’s ass, a fever rising in his blood. 

Everything was frenzied, nearing its boiling point, and the coil in his gut was  _ this close  _ to overwhelming him. He barely felt it when his fingers slipped out of Nicky’s mouth, but he felt it  _ acutely _ when he stilled Joe’s hips with a hand, and turned in his arms. 

Facing him, Nicky looked more debauched than Joe could’ve dreamed. His lips were slick and swollen, his edges were as blurred as an overexposed photograph, and even his usually sure and steady hands held the slightest tremble of aftershocks from his pleasure. His eyes gleamed, even with the sun’s rays backlighting his bedhead, even with no source of light to turn his gaze to that dark, ocean deep color, then. He looked wrecked, flushed and  _ holy,  _ and the moment he tugged down his pants-- just far enough to free his desperately straining cock-- and took him in hand, Joe was certain he was an actual angel. 

He pumped his hand fast and hard, focusing on the ridge under the head— the spot he knew could get Joe like nothing else. The callus of Nicky’s thumb swiped across that sensitive skin over and over again, and he caught a scream behind his teeth. 

It didn’t take long. He knew it wouldn’t, and so did Nicky— he knew Joe was coming before Joe did. His hips canted up and his thighs trembled faintly, that way that they did when he’d been fucked for  _ hours,  _ laid out and panting. Nicky studied him, lips parted wantonly, and pressed his tongue into his mouth just as Joe’s cock started to pulse into his grip. 

If he hadn’t swallowed the sound with his kiss, Joe was sure that he would’ve cried out with his release. He wrapped his arms around Nicky’s broad shoulders, shivering through the last of his orgasm as it throbbed through his bones, tangling their tongues in his love’s mouth. 

The hand on his cock kept pumping, teasing him until Joe whined and squirmed against his mouth. Nicky’s lips twitched into a small, warm smile. The air was filled with nothing but quiet, wet panting as they caught their breath. 

For a long moment, they just basked, passing soft kisses between the two of them, pressing their foreheads together, sharing breath. His muscles felt heavy, languid and warm, and he reveled in the closeness— just the two of them, huddled together in a pocket of heat, the cold of the morning nothing but a distant memory. 

He kissed Nicky softly, right on the corner of his mouth. 

“Good Morning, Nico.” Joe finally found his voice, sighing contentedly. He managed to shimmy his pants back up, wiping his hand on the inside of them to at least  _ pretend  _ they were clean. Just for a few moments, before they had to brave the cold to find the bathroom. 

Nicky snorted a laugh, “If you keep waking me up like _that,_ you won’t even have to say good morning, _cuore mio._ You’ll have _guaranteed_ the quality of the morning.” He smiled, wiping his own hand on a discarded t-shirt in the arms reach of the bedroll. The chill was immediate, and he snuggled up to Joe the second he could. 

“Why did the mission have to be so far north?” He grumbled, curling around Joe and resting his head on his chest. It was warm in the bedroll, and Nicky hummed. 

“If you wanted to go somewhere warmer next, you could’ve just asked.” answered a smirking voice, barely containing a laugh. 

Joe popped his head up and saw Andy’s teasing, half-scowled smile on the other side of the small room. Nicky huffed a laugh. 

“We’re well past any sense of shame, aren’t we, Andy?” he chuckled, turning around only enough to glance back at her. 

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah— well, I’m thinking about taking a vacation. Maybe Nice? Maybe Zanzibar? You two, though, might get an extra mission to do recon on that lead in Siberia.” 

_ “Boss—!”  _ Joe pouted. 

“Just get cleaned up, you filthy animals.” She winked and turned back over, her back to them. “You’re lucky Booker didn’t wake up this time.” 

Joe just shook his head, the last of his smile still on his lips as he rolled his Nico onto his back and fitted himself to his side. He leaned down and pressed kisses gently across his face— first, to his brow, then his eyelids, cheeks, and the tip of his nose. The rose of dusky pink blush was back, his eyes glowing and impossibly fond as Joe leaned down and claimed his lips. 

It wasn’t sexual. Not after the morning they’d had, at least. It was just a moment, a cap on any romantic overture that he would be able to make for the next few days as they snuck out of the country and into parts unknown. They’d have to keep themselves forgettable to any and all civilians, and Joe wouldn’t even be able to hold Nicky’s hand until they made it out. 

Soon, they’d have to get up and face the cold. They’d have to leave their pocket of heat on the hard concrete and clean themselves up properly. Joe kissed Nicky then, like a promise. Like he was telling him that it would be warm again soon. 

He used his cleaner hand to cup Joe’s jaw, kissing him in reply. In understanding. 

_ I love you,  _ it said. 

_ I worship you,  _ he replied. 

It was the last moment for just them, where they could’ve been anywhere for all Joe knew. The world narrowed down again to just  _ Nicky.  _ And Joe felt as if he was still blissfully dreaming.


End file.
